Number Two

Cylinder
Carved out
From a living being,
Infused
With chemicals
And a heart of lead,
Yet not even that,
Clothed
In utilitarian similarity,
Without a conscience
And without compassion,
Able to tolerate
And perform
Until its end;
Only to be replaced
By another,
Without remorse
For the death
Of its life giver,
Only a legacy
Of hard work
And a few smudges
Here and there.